


Even A Small Love

by sunflowertype



Category: HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV), おっさんずラブ | Ossan's Love (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-09-19 14:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowertype/pseuds/sunflowertype
Summary: A wedding, a honeymoon, and all the little things in between.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had entended write this before the movie came out, but that wasn't to be. Also, I borrowed some characters from HIGH & LOW to flesh this out somewhat. (I wouldn't exactly call it a crossover.)

Their wedding is simple. 

It’s in Setagaya, on the first Friday in November, when summer has long sighed into fall. Maki and Haruta sit in a nondescript room of their local ward office and wait to be called to an available window. For the occasion, they’re dressed in casual clothing; the formal wear comes later.

Maki watches Haruta pick at the fraying hem of his worn-in jeans. There's a nervous tension, a kind of contained panic, in him that Maki hasn't seen before.

Haruta had been full of frenetic energy on the train ride over. The leg jiggling, fingers tapping, mouth running kind of energy. Now, he sits beside Maki distressing his own clothing. 

The floor that houses the Residents and Family Division is a quiet but busy hive. The worker bees move between desks and clients. Soft conversations. The clacking of keyboards and the low hum of machines make up their wedding song. 

Maki’s heartbeat is a pendulum to this symphony, a steady noise in his ears. He’s half afraid that if it beats any louder, he won’t hear their number when it's called.

They filed their paperwork months ago. With each second that ticks by, he fears something went wrong. His brain flits between various mundane disasters as the reason for the long wait. It got lost in the mail or didn't meet approval for the certification. A computer terminal being down. 

These thoughts chase themselves in the arena of Maki’s skull.

It seems rather comical. From their stop-and-start engagement and to their dramatic survival of the building fire. The events over the summer seem like nothing compared to this waiting game to receive a piece of paper. 

On one of the biggest days of his young life and Maki feels like he is inching closer and closer to insanity. Over something as inane as bureaucracy, he sneers to himself.

The universe sneers back. Maki, so lost in the dark well of his own thoughts, doesn’t hear their number the first time its called. 

“Maki?” Haruta says, looking down at him with his brows drawn together.

Maki wants to ask why he’s standing up, but then he hears the automated number generator call out their number. This is it, he thinks. This is everything.

Haruta holds his hand out to Maki. The silver of his engagement ring shines in the dull fluorescent lighting. A stupid thought pops into Maki's head. I put that ring on his finger.

“Come on,” Haruta whispers, “it’s our turn.” The smile he gives Maki is soft and loving.

For a second that feels like forever, Maki doesn’t move. He expected this nervousness of Haruta, not of himself. Yes, there’s a frightened rabbit look in Haruta’s wide-eyed stare. Maki is pretty sure that that's sweat glistening on his palms, but he’s standing.

Haruta is waiting for him because it’s _their_ turn. Maki takes his hand.

As he follows behind Haruta, Maki wonders if he looks as shell shocked as he feels. In the months leading up to this moment, nothing about getting married phased him. Maki felt he even tackled the daunting and tedious paperwork with aplomb.

Walking the short distance to their assigned window feels a lot like he’s six and learning to swim again. All anxiety, uncoordinated limbs, and _terrified_. Haruta’s hand white-knuckling Maki’s is a life-safer and they make it to the window without incident.

The clerk checks their identification. After a few taps on her keyboard, she excuses herself. She walks to a printer a few paces behind her work station. In the seconds it takes to share a meaningful look with Haruta, she comes back with their partnership certificate.

A half-hour of waiting, two lifetimes worth of anxiety, and that’s it.

Maki looks at the paper, at all the neat characters typed across the white page, and finds his and Haruta’s names. They’re printed bold and beautiful in the center. In every way that counts to him and Haruta, they’re married.

Haruta’s fingers, the ones not locked in Maki’s own, reach up and brush tears off Maki’s face. They smile at each other. 

“We’re married!” Haruta cries, lips quivering as tears slide down his cheeks. A few of the other people in the office clap for them. 

Maki laughs into Haruta’s chest.

In the first week of November, four days after Maki’s birthday, he’s married to Haruta. It takes place in an office building where, in front of a dozen strangers, Haruta kisses him.

* * *

They buy a cheap frame from a daiso on their way home. It’s kitschy, decorated with little chihuahuas in sunglasses. Haruta laughs the second he sees it and that’s all Maki needed to agree to buy the silly thing.

"Where should we put it?" Maki asks as they walk back home.

Haruta thinks for a moment. "In the dining room?"

"Don't you think it's too crowded in there now?"

Over the course of their relationship, they'd begun to fill the walls with photos of their life. Some rearranging had occurred to accommodate the growing collection. Without undoing all their hard work, the frame couldn't fit.

"That's true," Haruta agrees. After a beat, he smiles and says, "I know where it can go!"

When they return home, Haruta puts the partnership certificate its frame. He places it on top of the getabako in the entrance. There are a few other photos there as well, but the certificate is front and center.

"When we come in, this will be what we see first." Haruta remarks, voice filled with emotion. "It will be what everyone sees first."

The addition of the certificate is like a piece of a puzzle coming together.

Holding hands, Maki and Haruta stand before the snapshots in the quiet of their home.

* * *

Their reception is later that evening.

It’s an intimate, low-key thing. Family and close friends squeeze into Wonderful. Teppei-nii closed it for the special occasion. Chizu and Sora have decorated the bar and tables with small bouquets of white roses and balloons. Strings of fairy lights brighten up the interior of the izakaya.

It's nothing at all like the over-the-top debacle that Chief steamrolled Haruta into. This budget ceremony was something Haruta and Maki planned and worked on together. A labor of love and respect.

There's beer, the champagne some of their friends brought, and light catering. No matter how much Teppei-nii boasted he could provide food for the event. Neither Maki or Haruta wanted to risk it. The murmur of conversation and clinking dishes in the front reaches Haruta's ears. He and Maki are waiting in the backroom.

His stomach is full of butterflies. Despite already taking one anxiety poop, Haruta's guts twist again sharp and painful.

He grabs his stomach, "Why am I this nervous? We're already married!"

Maki, leaning on the wall opposite of Haruta, rolls his eyes despite the smile tugging at his lips. "Because you're a big baby?”

"Maaaaki," Haruta whines in his usual way. He has to admit though, Maki isn't wrong.

Even he feels childish to be so anxious over walking down the aisle. Or in this case, walking from the employee room to the front of the izakaya. They've already been through the hardest parts. The building fire, their rocky engagement, and filing for their partnership certificate.

Taking a few steps together while their friends and family watch shouldn't be a big deal.

"Why aren't you nervous, huh? Huh?" Haruta asks, giving a playful poking to Maki's chest. 

He looks handsome in his montsuki and unstyled hair. The traditional clothing and the natural fall of his hair suits him. Compared to Haruta’s awkwardness in his own montsuki, Maki carries himself with ease. It makes Haruta want to poke him more.

Maki smiles and swats at his hand. "Stop it. And when did I say I wasn't?"

"You really don't look it," Haruta comments, looking him up and down. Maki looks as placid as ever. "Give me some advice please, Maki-sensei." Haruta raises his hands, pressed palm to palm, to his forehead in supplication.

Maki taps a finger to chin, as if he's considering it. "Figure it out yourself," is what he says instead, but his tone is gentle and joking.

Before Haruta can reply, there's a knock at the door and Chizu pokes her head in.

"It's time. Are you ready?" She asks.

Maki looks at Haruta, adjusting his haori for him one last time, and smiles at him. The butterflies, the nervousness that twisted Haruta’s intestines into knots, all disappear. Haruta figures out Maki’s secret. As long as they’re together, nothing else matters.

Haruta smiles and takes Maki's hand. They walk out together as their playlist kicks on.

The path toward the front of the izakaya, a makeshift aisle, is littered with rose petals. They walk down it hand in hand, quiet and reverent of this moment between them.

As he walks, Haruta sees his mother crying from his peripheral and his throat and eyes begin to burn. She hadn't been pleased with Haruta's relationship with Maki. She was even less so when he told her he wanted them to get married. After a proper meeting of Maki's family and getting to know Maki, she gave them her blessing.

Maki's family is seated around her and he sees the tears in Maki's eyes when he catches sight of them. Haruta peeks at them. Sora and their mother weep, while Maki’s father blinks his tears back.

When they reach the middle of the izakaya everyone claps, and Haruta and Maki exchange watery smiles.

Haruta takes a deep breath as he digs a crumpled paper from his pocket. His other hand never leaves Maki’s. The room quiets down, and the playlist a whisper in the background. 

He looks at Maki, at the man he’s going to spend his future with, and says, "Thank you for loving me first. I know I was the biggest idiot back then, and I know I drove you crazy." 

This gets a chuckle out of everyone there. It also gives Haruta a moment to work the lump out of his throat before he continues. With the next words memorized, he casts his eyes up and finds Maki staring at him.

His eyes are open and waiting, full of love, and Haruta finds it easy to speak the next part of his vows.

"Thank you for not giving up on me, on us. Even when we broke up, you took a chance and I'm so happy you did. I promise to be a better person. A better lover. The best husband. I will love and cherish you always, Maki Ryota.”

A quiet round of applause sounds as Haruta leans into kiss Maki.

Maki’s eyes shine with unshed tears when they part. It’s his turn. Haruta has to chuckle when he doesn’t pull out a paper to read from. He’s memorized his vows and Haruta expected no less.

“It's hard to put into words how happy you've made me.” Maki says. “I'm not even sure how I can thank you for the things you've done for me, the things you've given me. A place to stay when I needed it. Guidance. Your love.”

Maki takes a moment to wipe at the tears running down his cheeks. Every word he spoke made a little home in Haruta’s heart. He can’t help but laugh as he does the same and wipes his own tears away. At this point, he knows there’s not a dry eye in the whole place.

Maki steadies himself by squeezing Haruta’s hand before he continues. “I know I can be stubborn, and not show how much I appreciate you. So, I want to promise you here and now that I won't run away when things get difficult between us. I will depend on Haruta-san more, and be open about my feelings. I promise to be there for you when you need me, to protect you, and be your strength. I love you, always, Haruta-san.”

His speech is followed by soft clapping, a few loud sniffles, and some quiet sobs.

Maki kisses Haruta, warm and loving. Haruta guides them to their table in a haze of euphoria. He can't recall the last time he was this happy. Not that Haruta has time to revel in it. 

They're ushered into a few quick photo-ops. They pose together with their certificate. Then it's time for a few shots with their families, and finally with their friends. 

When they finish, Maki and Haruta take their seats. Maro and Justice lead the izakaya in a round of rowdy cheers and congratulations. Masamune gives his well wishes his solemn, formal tone. Mamiana’s are like respects paid at a funeral. Haruta even manages to thank him without resorting to childish butthole jokes. This is his wedding reception after all.

Almost the entire office has turned up for the event. The only exception is their Chief Kurosawa. He wasn't invited. 

It was a decision that Haruta was against at first. Guilt and worry tore him up at the thought of not handing his boss an invitation envelope. After hours of discussing it, Haruta agreed. Maki's careful and determined reasoning was hard to argue against. The Chief's behavior over the summer. His refusal to accept that he and Haruta’s will never be anything more than that of boss and subordinate. 

It was unacceptable and unwelcome at their reception. Haruta, after some deep reflection, agreed. 

He'd worked hard to gain some control over his anxiety. He knew it was often exacerbated by their boss' behavior. Haruta took his medication on time and spoke with his therapist often. These were things that took a lot of adjusting to. Haruta had come a long way. He could say no without the anxiety, guilt, and fear of repercussions.

So, Chief Kurosawa wasn't given an envelope and he at least had the decency to look understanding about it. He even gave his congratulations before they left to get their certificate. Later. he gave them their goshugi in the privacy of his office.

Haruta can’t say that he isn’t relieved. He would take Teppei-nii sobbing through his speech over whatever the Chief would have said, had he been invited.

Chizu gives her tear-filled congratulations with hugs. After that, Maimai, Aki, and the other women from the office converge on them. They each deliver their sweet words. Eventually, and finally, the well-wishes come to an end. The izakaya settles into a more relaxed atmosphere.

Haruta and Maki sit shoulder to shoulder in seiza at a table. Haruta’s cheeks ache from smiling. His legs are tingling, threatening to fall asleep, but he wouldn’t change anything. 

Everything is perfect.

"Are you happy?" Haruta's mom asks in a whisper. “You look happy.”

She sits at his right. There are faint tracks of mascara down her cheeks that make Haruta's heart shake. He'd always hated seeing her cry.

He reaches for her hand, takes it in his, and squeezes. “I am,” Haruta says with absolute honesty. 

How could he not be? He’s married to the man he loves, surrounded by the support of his friends and family. Haruta couldn’t be happier.

She squeezes his hand back, eyes wet, and says, “Good. Take care of each other, Haruta. Maki is a good man.”

Her smile is genuine and he knows she supports them. Haruta also knows the shadows in her eyes are worries about what he and Maki will face together in the future. The things she can’t protect them from, but she’s doing her best to not let those worries spill over into the present. 

Haruta has never loved her more than in this moment.

Around the lump in his throat, Haruta replies, “Thank you, mom.”

* * *

They get home in the early, nebulous hours of the morning, tipsy and in love.

Married, Maki thinks, as he undresses Haruta with quick and careful movements. He’s lost count of how many times he’s thought that, but it still lights a fire in his stomach each time he does. He barely gets Haruta out of his hakama before he takes his own dick in his hand and strokes it.

They’re a real married couple now. Everyone knows it. As his first duty as Haruta's official husband, he can’t let Haruta come on the montsuki because they’re rentals. 

Which is a shame. Haruta looks handsome drunk and turned on while half-dressed in his haori. When Haruta whines that he wants it _now_, Maki’s hands shake. He manages to shush Haruta with a kiss and because Maki is a good husband, he saves them a hefty dry cleaning bill by stripping them both out of their clothes.

“Your my husband,” Haruta giggles into Maki’s shoulder. He’s hard against Maki’s thigh. “You actually married me!” He bites the skin he was just speaking against. 

Maki smiles, kisses Haruta until he shudders, and then says, “Of course I married you. I love you.”

Haruta swallows so hard Maki can actually hear the sound. “Make me come,” he whispers. “I want my husband to make me come.”

“I’ll do my best,” Maki promises against Haruta’s lips. What kind of husband would he be if he couldn’t deliver?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this fic been a whole ass journey. mostly a nostalgic one—a big trip down memory lane for me from when i was in japan. anyway, huge thanks to [final_vent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/final_vent/pseuds/final_vent) for everything. i love you. and thank you as well to [nyxako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxako) for beta-ing.
> 
> ‘butthole jokes’ - the kanji for mamiana’s name is 狸穴迅, 穴 is the same kanji for ‘hole’ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0qO4dgIzoS2S0I1Htof1zW?si=7dAb5pQIT0eUNASIxxV2vQ) if you're interested!


	2. Chapter 2

The goshugi they received during the reception is enough to pay for a honeymoon and then some. It's just deciding on the destination that gives them some trouble. A kind of poltergeist that follows them day in and day out.

It comes up in their mundane back and forths while on their lunch break.

“Where do you want to go? Somewhere in Asia? Overseas?" Haruta asks around the chicken katsu in his mouth.

Maki wipes the bit of rice at the corner of Haruta's mouth away. "Anywhere we can relax and not have to work too hard to enjoy it is fine."

It finds its way into their dinner time conversations.

"How about Shanghai? I thought it was cool when I went. Or Singapore? You really enjoyed it when you went" Haruta suggests with chopsticks raised.

"Stop pointing those at me," Maki grumbles. "How about nowhere either of us had to go for business trips?"

It even spills over into their daily text conversations. 

_Taiwan?_

_How good is your Mandarin again?_

_..._  
  


* * *

  
  
A drowsy Sunday in the final weeks of November, the question of where is exorcised and laid to rest at last.

They manage to squeeze themselves on the sofa under a blanket. Haruta laying back to front against Maki's chest. He plays a game on the console while Maki scrolls an online clothing store on his phone. 

It’s between price checking different cardigans that Maki gets an email notification. He taps it on it and smiles when he recognizes the sender as an old friend of his.

"Haruta-san?" 

"Hm?"

Still scanning the contents of the e-mail, Maki reaches out a finger and tugs a lock of Haruta's hair. "How do you feel about Kyoto?" 

"Kyoto? Can't say for sure." Haruta pulls face as he thinks. "I think the last time I was there was for a school trip. We visited Kinkaku-ji."

"Were there dinosaurs?" Maki jokes.

"Hey!" Haruta yells in his loud and dramatic way. "Don't forget who married this old man."

"Yes, yes," Maki says, kissing his cheek, "I married an old man." He hands his phone to Haruta and continues, "How does staying in a ryokan for a few days at a reduced price sound?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Two weeks into December, Maki and Haruta arrive in Kyoto for their honeymoon.

It's a gray Thursday evening as Fall surrendered to winter without a fight earlier in the week. Freezing wind whips into the massive steel and glass structure of Kyoto Station. Maki shivers despite his layers of clothing. There's an ominous gathering of clouds above that threatens to dump snow at any moment.

This time of year always draws a large crowd of travelers and tourists. The station is bustling, but it's easy for Maki to find Haruta. He's a short distance away standing in line at a small food stand. 

Maki's eyes follow Haruta like magnets as he lets an elderly couple go ahead of him. It’s in typical Haruta fashion that it makes Maki snort to himself. As he watches Haruta pay for their hot chocolates, Maki feels a jolt of pride. He looks handsome in his casual winter-wear Maki picked out for him. 

The next shiver that goes down Maki's spine isn't related to the cold. It's the icy fingers of worry and anxiety pressing along his nerves like keys on a piano. 

Kyoto is home to pieces of Maki that he hasn't told Haruta about. Not because he's ashamed or guilty of his formative years but, beyond vague anecdotes, it never came up.

Maki can't even pinpoint what it is that's worrying him exactly. That Haruta will want to divorce him? Be embarrassed by him? As much as Maki knows those are stupid thoughts, they're a blazing forest fire inside his skull.

They burn themselves out to a smolder as he watches Haruta approach.

"You're gonna get wrinkles." Haruta says as he presses a warm cup of hot chocolate between Maki's brows. 

Maki takes the cup. "Would still have less than you do."

"Okay, I walked into that one," Haruta replies, smiling. "Are you okay, though?"

Under the spotlight of Haruta's concern, Maki nods, hoping his smile is convincing. "Yeah, feeling a bit tired. Ready to be out of this cold." 

It's not exactly a lie, so as he takes a drink, the twinge of guilt is tiny and easy to ignore.

His phone chirps from his pocket. Maki pulls it out and sends a silent prayer to every god he knows when his friend's name illuminates on the screen.

"I'm parked outside on the north exit end," Ukyo says when Maki answers. "Just so you know, I'm freezing my balls off out here."

"Alright, alright," Maki grumbles, not wanting to hear anymore about Ukyo's balls. "We're coming up."

Traffic outside of the station isn't heavy. Spotting the familiar, outdated Cadillac parked at the curb is easy. When they approach, the driver side window rolls down and reveals the round face of Ukyo. 

Cigarette between his lips, he smiles and says, “Daruma Ryokan express pick up service.”

Maki has been friends with Ukyo, and his brother Sakyo, since junior high. The three of them even attended the same university. They all still make it a point to meet up with each other at least twice every year when their schedules allow. 

Ukyo’s hair is still the “trendy” silver from the last time Maki saw him after his break up with Haruta.

“It’s been a while,” Maki says with fondness. “You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know.”

Ukyo shrugs and blows a trail of smoke out of his mouth. He leaves the car running as he gets out. He’s dressed partly in the ryokan’s uniform, a red and white happi. Underneath he wears a baggy hoodie and basketball shorts with compression leggings. Married life has made him pudgy, but it suits him.

“Couldn’t let ya ride the bus, now could I?” Ukyo replies. “Besides, it gets me away from that asshole brother of mine for a little while.” 

Maki laughs, understanding the sentiment completely, being an older brother himself. He loves his sister, would kill anyone that hurt her, but he’d also take any opportunity to bad mouth her when he could. 

Ukyo winks at him, a lifetime of friendship and fondness in such a minute action, and then his eyes move to Haruta.

It’s a look Maki is very familiar with. Every boyfriend he’s introduced to Sakyo and Ukyo has received this silent sizing up. Tested. They all cracked under the scrutiny in someway. Ducked out of dates or never called him back; it saved Maki a lot of heartache in the end.

Ukyo’s intensity hasn’t diminished in the years since he started doing it in junior high. If anything, Ukyo looks more vicious in his uniform, glaring with the winter wind. The half-finished cigarette hanging from his lips is a nice finishing touch.

Haruta isn’t some boyfriend though, Maki is married to him.

“Ukyo, this is Haruta Souichi-san.” Maki says, making the introductions. “Haruta-san, this is Hyuga Ukyo.”

Haruta stiffens under the directness of Ukyo’s gaze. He's standing close enough to Maki that he feels the way Haruta draws himself up to his full height. He stands wire taught but, unexpectedly, doesn’t flinch away as he stares back at Ukyo. 

Haruta’s fingers curl in the hem of Maki’s jacket. and at first Maki thinks it’s because of nervousness, even a little bit of fear. When he looks at Haruta though, he looks determined and protective instead.

It’s stupid for him to be happy about this little standoff in the freezing cold outside of the station. Just for a moment, Maki lets himself have this. Haruta, if it came down to it, would fight for him. The thought settles warm and content between his ribs.

Ukyo smirks, impressed by Haruta’s bravery, and bows first. “Nice to meet ya.”

And like that, the tense bubble around them bursts and Haruta deflates somewhat. He doesn’t let go of Maki’s jacket though. He uses his free hand to scratch the back of his head and bows in return. 

“P-Please take care of me, Hyuga-san!” Haruta replies an octave higher.

Maki bites his lip to keep from laughing. There’s the Haruta he is familiar with.

Ukyo waves him off. He's never liked formal greetings. “Hyuga-san, my ass. Ukyo is fine.” He takes a last drag off his cigarette and drops it to the curb. “Ready?”

He takes their suitcases without waiting for a reply and rolls them to the passenger side of the car. “You can have the back. There’s more room.”

Maki nods and nudges Haruta. “Come on.”

Haruta’s hand tugging insistently on his elbow stops him before he can open the car door.

“You have these kinds of friends?” Haruta whispers.

Maki, hackles up, cuts him a look. 

Haruta shakes his head quickly and holds his hands up. “Not what I meant.” He smiles and continues, “I’m just glad he looks after you like that.”

“Not everyone is a friendless momma’s boy.” Maki shoots back and with a jerk, throws open the door to the car. 

He shuts it before Haruta can say anything else embarrassing. For good measure, he locks it behind him which forces Haruta to trudge to the other side.

Ukyo snickers from the front seat.

“I have friends,” Haruta is mumbling when he slides in beside Maki. “And who’s the momma’s boy? I've seen the photos of you in your mom’s apron!”

“Shut up.” Maki hisses back, embarrassed. A tiny part of him hates Sora for going through their childhood photo albums with Haruta. 

Haruta wiggles around. Maki lets himself get pushed and arranged until Haruta feels satisfied. Even after months of being together, being married, it’s still such a new experience to be touched so freely by Haruta. All Maki can do is go along with it, drinking it in like some sun-starved flower.

The final result of all the shoving is that Haruta has Maki crowded against the door as he stretches out as much as the car will allow him to. Which isn’t a lot. He ends up curled on his side, knees almost to his chest, with his head in Maki’s lap.

“You’re so mean.” He mumbles tiredly against Maki’s thigh.

Maki doesn’t want to break whatever spell this is by speaking. Instead, he drops his hand into Haruta’s hair and cards through it as they leave Kyoto Station behind them. 

Haruta is asleep before they even hit the expressway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to nyxako and final_vent for everything.
> 
> this fic has a [playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0qO4dgIzoS2S0I1Htof1zW?si=VXuDWetYTb2VJUc_76j5Zg)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it has been said:  
Love and a cough cannot be concealed.  
Even a small cough.  
Even a small love.  
\-- Anne Sexton (Small Wire)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> completely self-edited. apologies in advance for any mistakes.

"I'm not going in there," Haruta says, tone firm. He stares up at the inn like it’s a house of terror and torture. 

Maki stares at it with a deep fondness as the old ghosts of his childhood and teenage years stir within his bones.

Daruma Ryokan can be best described as looming. It's old, dark, and set back somewhat in the woods. The deep red of the tiled roof and the deeper shadows beneath the eaves. Under each awning sits a hannya mask, watching over the grounds.

The ryokan has been in Ukyo and Sakyo's family for generations and it shows. By design, there have only been a handful of cosmetic upgrades to the wooden exterior. The idea was to leave it alone as much as possible to preserve the unwelcoming look.

In the fading evening light, it's downright ominous in a beautiful way. 

This had been Maki’s kingdom away from home and school. It was in this old inn that he cut his virgin teeth. He came to terms with his sexuality during the summer of his first year in high school. Even now, the sight of the ryokan is a siren call.

“Haruta-san,” Maki says in exasperation, "come on." He pushes against Haruta's back, herding him forward.

"It's definitely haunted!" Haruta complains even as he lets Maki push him along.

"It's not haunted," Maki replies, rolling his eyes. "It used to be the headquarters for a gang, though."

The lore of the establishment is that it was once home to the Daruma Ikka, a vicious pack of local thugs. When the gang disbanded, the building and the land sat abandoned, left to rot. It was eventually purchased decades ago by Sakyo and Ukyo's family and they kept the name but converted it to an inn.

The ryokan isn't a big establishment. With fifteen rooms it's on the smaller side for the area, but it always managed to stay booked. The ryokan's history as a former gang hideout attracts locals and visitors every year, all year long.

"Maki," Haruta whines, "do we have to?"

"Yes. The room is already booked," Maki says firmly. "Let's go."

Ignoring Haruta's pout, Maki pushes him toward the front of the ryokan. As they come around from the private parking lot, there are two attendants waiting under the main awning. Maki has come to know almost every staff member employed by the brothers. Maki doesn't recognize the two blond-haired young men standing before the entrance.

They are dressed like Ukyo in the signature red and white happi with their street clothes layered under it. To go along with the history of the building, the inn's staff also play the part of gang members, albeit more polite and with excellent customer service.

When they spot Maki and Haruta, they bow and say in unison, "Welcome, honored guest!"

Maki and Haruta return the bow. As Maki comes back up, he catches their name tags. Futa, the slightly longer haired blond, and Raita, who has the shorter, close-cropped hair.

"Please, come in," Futa says. He and Raita move to the large door. 

Carved in the wood is the massive, hannya mask with two katana crossing behind it. Its huge demonic countenance smiles at them. If the building's exterior was creepy, the door was nightmare-inducing. 

When Haruta's fingers twist in the hem of Maki's jacket, he knows the door has done its job. Maki can't help but feel a swell of pride. That’s how deep the ryokan is embedded inside of him.

Maki reaches down and touches the tips of his fingers to the back of Haruta’s hand, reassuring him, and smiles when his efforts aren’t brushed off.

Futa and Raita slide the door open and politely usher them into the warm, dimly lit entrance. When the door slides closed behind them, Maki loosens, relaxes the tension he wasn’t aware he had been carrying. His bones feel settled under his skin. Every time Maki visits, it's like being transported back in time to when he first stepped through the door. He's just older and with different troubles on his shoulders every visit.

“This place is pretty normal,” Haruta is saying as he steps out of his shoes and puts on the complimentary slippers. “All things considered.” 

Maki watches as he surveys the simple but elegant interior with the trained eyes of a real estate agent. Inside, the ryokan is less like a derelict gang hideout and more like a yakuza head’s vacation home. 

There must be something about the polished wooden floors, lantern-lit halls, and the massive taiko drums hanging behind the reception area that meets Haruta’s approval. He nods to himself and smiles.

“It’s really nice. Cozy.” Haruta says. 

Maki knows he doesn’t understand how much those simple words mean to him, but Maki hopes his smile conveys at least a little bit of the happiness he feels.

“What?” Haruta asks. He smiles back but there’s confusion in the corners of it.

“I’ll tell you later,” Maki reassures him. He’s surprised to find he means it. He wants to tell Haruta about his time in this house of good and evil. “Let’s check in.”

The two women running the reception desk Maki is more familiar with. When they spot him approaching, both come out from behind the desk to give him warm hugs.

"Ryotan, I'm so glad you came!" Ami says, squeezing him with what feels like every ounce of strength in her small frame. She smells of floral perfume and whatever products she used to style her blond updo. 

On his other side Mariko presses against his arm, careful of her pregnant belly. "Congratulations, Ryotan! This must be him, right? The husband?" She points over his shoulder at Haruta.

Maki laughs and hugs them both. "It's nice to see you again," he says and means it. He turns to Haruta and smiles.

"Haruta-san, this is Mariko and Ami-chan." 

Each woman gives a polite bow and wave which Haruta returns.

"And this is Haruta Souichi-san, my husband." The novelty of saying that still hasn't gotten old. Maki feels a flood of happiness when Haruta gives him a soft smile.

Ami and Mariko let go of Maki and, like sharks, circle around Haruta sizing him up. 

"I thought he looked kind of goofy in your wedding pictures," Mariko comments, "but he's more handsome in person. Good for you, Ryotan."

Ami makes a sound of agreement. "Please take good care of our Ryotan," she smiles at Haruta but there's an underlying 'or else' at the edges of it. "You'll do that, right? Harutan?"

"R-Right," Haruta agrees, looking to Maki for help.

Maki snorts, putting his hands up. He doesn't regret not telling Haruta anything about the lion's den he was walking into.

"We wanted to come to the reception but the ryokan was so booked then," Mariko says with a pout. 

With Haruta officially recognized as Maki's husband, both women move back towards Maki's side. 

"Me and Ami thought about just ditching the joint but, knowing our husbands, this place would've burnt to the ground."

"Tomorrow, you're both coming over for dinner," Ami chimes in and Maki can't find any reason to argue with her. "We'll let you settle in for tonight. I'll show you to your room. Your bags are already there."

Ami heads back to the reception desk, waving them off with bright, perfectly manicured nails. 

While they walk a few paces behind Mariko, Maki hits Haruta none too gently in the ribs.

“She’s married to Sakyo, Ukyo's brother.” He whispers, and kind of delights in the way Haruta pales. “Ami-chan Ukyo's wife." 

“If I do anything stupid, you’ll protect me, right?” Haruta begs. “I get immunity for being your husband, right?”

Maki looks him up and down. "Not likely. You’re on your own."

* * *

After Mariko shows them to their room and explains dinner will be served in an hour, she leaves them to explore on their own. Maki suggests they bathe before their meal.

"Can we just live here?" Haruta asks in awe, looking around the tidy, eight-tatami room.

He could fill this room with Zoids, Haruta thinks.

The dark redwood trim and the neutral tones of the walls create an inviting, natural atmosphere in the room. It's sparse but the few decorations, taiko drums and vivid paintings of chrysanthemum flowers give the room elegance without being overbearing. It’s a fitting theme with their room being called kiku.

He could never afford it with his salary, but dreaming doesn't hurt.

Maki laughs while peeling himself out of his layers. "I used to," he says. Haruta looks at him, and Maki adds, "live here. Not in the ryokan itself, but on the grounds. Almost every summer and winter break in high school I lived and worked here."

Haruta sees the nostalgia in Maki now. He hadn't noticed it before, but it's in the way he looks around at the room. An easy love and contentment in his brown eyes. It's different from how Maki looked when they visited his parents' house, but it's spun from the same cloth.

"Eh? Really?" Haruta asks, curious about this unknown era of Maki's life.

He can recall from their small talks about their childhoods, that Maki frequented Kyoto with friends. From Sora, Haruta learned Maki was a small-time delinquent, but this was the first time he was hearing about Maki living and working in a ryokan.

Maki nods, helping Haruta out of his own coat and scarf. "This place was my home away from home." His eyes make the slow journey upwards to meet Haruta’s. “I practically had every ‘first’ teenage moment here. First job. First kiss. First time.”

Haruta’s first thought is to try and imagine Maki in the red and white uniform, handling the minutiae of working in a ryokan. Recalling the wide-eyed, gangly teen from the photos Sora showed him, it makes him smile.

Watching Maki undress and neatly fold his clothes, Haruta’s second thought is less pleasant.

“Your first time... wasn’t with some old pervert, was it?”

Maki rolls eyes, shoving past him and heading toward their en-suite bathroom. “No, an upperclassman in school.” He says as he slides open the door.

Haruta doesn’t press further. He’s never been one to be concerned with a partner’s sexual history; he’s even less so with Maki because he knows it’s the past and they are each other’s present and future.

“Are you coming?” Maki calls to him as he fiddles with the taps.

* * *

Their shower is quick and afterward, they change into the pre-supplied yukata just in time to receive the soft knock for dinner. In almost the blink of an eye, the kotatsu in the center of the room becomes host to a small army of dishes.

Seasonal and regional specialties steam before them, filling the room with their savory aromas.

Maki smiles at the awed expression on Haruta’s face. He’s almost drooling. 

The servers make their quiet exit. They’ll return once the meal is finished to remove the trays and layout the futon for them. For now, though, Maki watches as Haruta begins eating. Every so often, around a mouthful of food, he makes an appreciative noise or exclaims about a particular dish’s deliciousness.

Maki eats his own, content to just watch and listen to Haruta. Content to love him like this, in the quiet of their room.

Later, as they snuggle under their shared covers, Maki is almost asleep when Haruta whispers to him.

“You can add this to your list of firsts,” he says, voice drowsy in Maki’s ear. 

Maki hums quietly in response.

“Your first time having your husband here with you.”

Maki forgets to breathe for a moment. When he manages to force air into his lungs again, Maki snorts, but that sentence etches itself in his brain. He’s glad for the darkness; it hides the shine of eyes, the embarrassing smile he feels crawl across his face.

He finds Haruta’s hand in the dark and draws it across his chest. Maki links their fingers and doesn’t let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you final_vent and everyone who read and liked this fic.


End file.
